


Abe, After

by dontworryaboutanything



Series: Abe [1]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier? - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Other, Who Killed Markiplier?, canon compliant reader character, some second person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 19:52:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontworryaboutanything/pseuds/dontworryaboutanything
Summary: Abe woke up again too.Even if he didn't want to.





	Abe, After

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to give Abe some love. His relationship/feelings toward the viewer are up to interpretation and left vague for you to decide, but I wrote it a bit romantically. Mostly it is just about his character, and what happened after we were trapped. Enjoy! Please, I thrive on a diet of comments, feel free to tell me how you feel.

When Abe woke, It didn’t come to him, It didn’t need to. He was able to watch the conversation, watch you be tricked and dragged back from the darkness. He couldn’t stop screaming, trying to warn you. You couldn’t hear a word.  
He didn’t want to go back, not after all of it. It should’ve been the end, should have been peace, but it was all just endless inky cold.

_And you were in danger._

When It whispered, asking if he were ready to get up now, he sat up from death with a coughing fit.  
He was still too in shock to feel how full his lungs were. He scrambled to the back stairs as he heard the Colonel calling up from the front of the house, hoping to find you.

Except, you weren’t there. There was a thing that looked like a man, stuttering colors at the edges, walking to the front door with purpose.  
“Mayor?” He called, thought maybe Mark, instead, but it wasn’t either when it turned to him and smiled.

“I was hoping you’d make it back. You should be careful,” It’s voice echoed, and every shadow in the room stretched towards Abe as he backed away, going for the gun he’d forgotten upstairs. “There’s a murderer on the loose.”

The thunder sounded like bones and glass breaking, this time, and he felt the hole in his rib ache.  
The Colonel was upstairs, and you weren’t here. Where were you?

The thing was going for the door again. “I can’t let you-”

“You can’t stop me. Nobody can. So you can waste your time trying,” It, (he?), looked to bloodstain on the floor where you had been laying. “Or you can do what little you still can.”

He heard the Colonel call your name, and he was moving before he meant to be, going the back way up to avoid passing the thing by the door. He was calling out, now, too. When he heard the Colonel running towards him, he went quiet, hid. He didn’t have time for a fight, didn’t have time for these games, and he was hardly back to full strength after being dead for so long.

The thought gave him a chill.

The more he hid, though, the more desperate the Colonel sounded, the more heartbroken and unhinged.  
“Please, where are you? Where are you? Detective, Damien, please- You can all- it’s over now! Please-”

It went on, and on, and so did Abe. You weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere.

He couldn’t keep the coughing fits at bay, and wondered how he hadn’t drowned in all the blood in his lungs again. It hurt. He wanted to sleep, it hurt. Fuck, did it hurt.  
When Damien’s body walked by the doorway of the bedroom he was searching in, he almost forgot that it should be impossible.

“Did you see where my old friend went, Detective?” Mark asked, through Damien’s mouth, and Abe couldn’t breathe long enough to speak. Something in him was mad again, making him shake, curling his hands into fists.

He only shook his head. The monster walked away.

His radio crackled to life as he found it again, a bit later, and he had to wheeze to speak. He wasn’t sure if it were a warning or a threat. “Colonel, if you’re hearing this . . . You’d better run.”

You were gone.  
It was clear, you were gone.

Everyone here was responsible, everyone. Even him. You were only trying to help, you didn’t know about any of it. You didn’t hurt anyone. You’d tried to save him.  
You didn’t deserve this.

You were-  
He . . .

He didn’t let himself think about it.

He found his gun on the balcony, where he’d not been able to see it before.  
Maybe threat and warning, he decided. Maybe both.  
  
He wondered if there were still matches in the kitchen.


End file.
